Of Mothers and Daughters
by GS Investigator
Summary: GSR... When Sara goes missing, it's up to the team to figure who took her. But was she taken? ... And what will Grissom do about his feelings?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Trust me, if I owned them, this story would be on the tube, not on the Internet.**

**Day 1**

**8:26 AM**

It was a cold morning in July when criminalist, Gil Grissom, heard his cell phone ring. The view from his condominium in Las Vegas revealed that the sun had risen hours ago, and he wondered who would be calling him now. Every one he knew, which included only the people he worked with at the lab and court offices, and quite a few dead people, were knowledgeable to the fact the he, and his team, worked the nightshift. He wouldn't expect any calls for another six hours or so. He looked up from his search to find one of his entomology books and picked it up. "Grissom," he answered.

"Gil, its Catherine," he heard on the other line. Catherine Willows, one of his long time friends and co-criminalist, sounded unlike her usually vivacious self.

"Good morning, Cath. Is something wrong?" Now he was worried. What could she be calling about? It couldn't be about work. She had just closed a double homicide that night and said she would be spending the day with her rambunctious thirteen-year-old daughter, Lindsey.

"Sara's missing," she answered as sobs ran down her cheeks. Six years ago, Grissom had called Sara Sidle, a friend he had known for a long time, to assist him in an internal affairs situation. Since then, she has worked side by side with Grissom and his team. Although their relationship had been puzzling, mystifying even, over the years, there had been no doubt in anyone's mind that the two socially inept pair had had a sort of bond that was in a way unexplainable.

Grissom had wondered for a long time what to do about this situation. Her feelings for him were obvious from the start, and, at times, he let his feelings show; but only for a short while before he closed up again. Whenever Sara would try to reach out to him, he had stood there like an idiot, just listening and not being able to tell her that…

"Gil! Don't you understand?" Catherine screamed at him. He was still standing in front of the bookshelf, mouth agape. "Sara's missing! Gil! Are you even there?" He was in awe of the events. A few hours ago, he had left the lab, noticing Sara sitting in front of a computer screen. Research, he thought, and left. Now he was wondering if leaving was such a good idea.

"I, I'm here, Catherine." His speech was slurred, impaired by his shock. It was then that he noticed that Catherine had hung up. He sat down in his chair, put his phone on the table, and just sat, gazing at the blaring sun through the window. He heard a knock on the door, and, believing it was Sara, ran to answer it.

He was disappointed to find that it was only Catherine. "Oh, hi," was his only greeting, and he went back to sitting in his chair.

"Gil Grissom!" She picked him up by the collar and stood him in front of her. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I believe I was contemplating my life. And you?"

Catherine did not appreciate his stark reply. "Weren't you listening to me on the phone? Sara is missing! Get up and do something."

"What can we do, Catherine? I trust you've called everybody note worthy, and I haven't believed in magic since I was four. So excuse me, but I am rather upset and do not wish to be beaten with meaningless antics!"

"We have to go out and find her!"

"Do you know the odds of finding her? Do you? Slim to none, Catherine. Slim to none!" With that, he sat back into his chair, resting his head in his hands.

Catherine backed down. She had no idea what he must have been going through, and decided to just sit in the chair next to him. "Grissom, you know how you always tell us to never get ahead of the evidence?" Grissom picked his head up in curiosity, and slowly nodded. He knew what she was getting at. He stood up, extended his hand towards her and nodded again. Catherine looked up and smiled, and placed her hand in his.

They walked out the door, and as Grissom turned to lock it, he remembered last night, with him and Sara at a crime scene they had been investigating.

_"Have I ever told you a story my mother used to tell me as a little girl?" the young brunette asked as she fingerprinted a broken table._

_"No, you haven't. Would you care to share?" Grissom inquired._

_Sara took a deep breath. She had shared her family's secret with him months before, having broken down crying right in front of him. She trusted him with her life, and wished only that he trusted her, too. She began the story._

_"She used to tell me, 'There once was a beautiful princess named Lily, who, when she was very young, wished to have a prince to call her own. One day, many, many years later, she found him. They fell in love, and had a beautiful daughter named, Samantha. However, one day, the prince found a berry that he liked very, very much. The only problem with that berry was that it made him very mean when he drank its juice. The princess found out and tried to stop him, but it only caused him to be more mean. One day, when he had a lot of the berries, he hit the princess. Samantha had seen this happen, and ran to help her mommy. Lily told her that they were just playing a game, and when Samantha asked if she could join, Lily told her that it was just for grownups. That year, Samantha watched her mommy and daddy play this game many times. And when Samantha asked if she could play, Lily would always tell her just to go to her room.' Then she would say, 'And what is the moral of this?' and I would always reply, 'Don't get in the way of grownups.' She would always pat me on the back, saying that I was right, and then kissed me goodnight."_

_During the story, Sara had stopped dusting and just sat next to the table. "I didn't know it at the time," she said, "but my mother was really telling a story of our family. She was trying to keep me out harms way." She looked up at Grissom, tears in her eyes, about to fall, and told him, "So much for that." She quickly broke and walked swiftly out of the room. Grissom ineptly continued to stand there, not knowing what to do, or if he should do anything._

It was now that Grissom realized the time to do something was then, listening to her sobs through the closed door. He wished he had done something then, and realized now that it might have kept them out of this excruciating predicament.

"Grissom! Come on! I've called Brass. He's going to meet us at the station." Jim Brass, captain of the Las Vegas Police Department and a friend of Grissom's, was never one to be subtle about anything. Grissom knew he would get a piece of his friends mind soon enough.

**8:43 AM**

Jim, Catherine, and Grissom all stood outside the police station, waiting for co-criminalists and friends Nick Stokes, Warrick Brown, and Greg Sanders. When Grissom had called, the three had been on a case he had assigned them, only a few miles from the station. They would be there any minute, and Grissom tried his best to wipe his tear-stained face.

Nick had answered the phone, and when Grissom told them what was going on, Nick didn't even bother saying goodbye. He knew it would only hinder their chances of finding Sara.

Not a minute after Grissom had completely dried his face, the group noticed the government issued Yukon pull into the station's parking lot, and three very worried men were quick to jump out of it, barely taking the time to turn it off.

"Yo, Griss, what's going on?" came Warrick's voice has he approached the already growing group of people. "Nick said something about Sara being missing? That true?"

Grissom, at this point, was incapable of answering, and, noticing this, Catherine took over. "She was there when I left the lab this morning, so I called her wondering about some evidence, and she didn't answer. And her answering machine didn't pick up so, her phone's probably off."

"So no way of tracking her cell," said Nick, talking more to himself than to anyone else in particular.

"Did you try her house?" Greg asked, speaking his first words since he heard the news. Sara had always been a little more than a friend to him, even if she didn't reciprocate these feelings.

"Yeah," Jim answered. "No answer, so I headed over there. No answer from the inside."

"And she didn't request a leave for today, this week, this month?" Warrick asked Grissom, knowing he forgets these types of things easily.

For the first time since he called Nick, Grissom answered, "No." Simple, yes, but that was all he could get out at the moment. Warrick understood. Sara was like a sister to him, but he knew she meant so much more to Grissom, even if he didn't want to admit it.

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Meanwhile, Sara was on her way to Santa Monica, Evanescence blasting on the stereo. She was on a long emotional journey, one she began twenty-one years ago. One that would never end. But she knew a way to confront it, a way to embrace it, to control it and not let it control her. She was out to see the one who caused her so much pain and anguish; the one who once tried to protect her from it all. The one she thought she could trust not to hurt her. And in a way, she was never hurt, physically. Her mother made sure of that.

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**9:01 AM**

"So what have we got, Jim," Catherine asked as they made their way into the conference room of the Las Vegas Police Station.

"She's not picking up any of her phones," Brass began, "and she wasn't scheduled for a leave any time soon, if at all." Their workaholic friend almost never took a leave, only using her mandatory days off because of excess overtime to revisit cold cases- the ones that got away.

Before anyone could say anything, Jim cut in again. "When I went over to see if she was home, I noticed her car wasn't there. And I may just be a cop, but I am capable of deduction skills." His attempt at a joke went unnoticed. "Anyway, I don't think she was kidnapped."

"What, she just ran away?" Nick asked, surprised at his friends supposed actions.

"I'm not saying that, I'm just saying that she most likely left of her own free will."

Meanwhile, throughout the conversation, Grissom was sitting at the end of the table, whiskered chin in hand. "Maybe not, Jim," he exclaimed, eyes still focused on a very interesting spot on the table as they other five turned to him.

"What are you getting at, Grissom?" Catherine asked, perplexed. "If she took her own car, how could she not do that by herself?"

"Kidnapper could have taken her keys with him and drove off with her, possibly restrained in some way." He finally looked up, eyeing Brass and Catherine. "We can't rule anything out."

"Plus," Nick added, "It's not like Sara just to leave and not tell anyone." They all nodded in agreement, except Grissom.

"Unless she didn't want us to know where she was going," he stated matter-of-factly. The group mulled over this for a moment, contemplating where Sara would go that she wouldn't want the rest of them to know about

"A boyfriend, maybe?" Greg asked, receiving a glare from Grissom, and quickly shut up.

"I don't think so," Nick said, hoping to relieve some of Grissom's pressure. "I mean, she didn't tell me everything, but when she was seeing that guy, Hank, I think his name was, I did see a noticeable difference in her attitude. And after whatever happened between them, I haven't seen her the same since." Grissom cringed at the mention of Hank's name. He knew it wasn't fair to Sara to keep her for himself if he didn't give her anything in return, and knew that Sara did need a life. Never the less, he was still as a jealous as ever to learn of her relationship, and completely furious when Catherine told him about Hank's cheating on Sara. It pained him to think of Sara in that kind of situation, but one he could do nothing about.

Grissom was knocked out of his reverie when he realized Catherine was trying to get his attention. "Yes?"

"I was saying that we should get back to the lab. If she took her car, she took her GPS system."

This was enough for Grissom to shoot from his chair toward the parking lot, berating himself for not thinking of that before. He was gone before the rest of the team got out of the building, all heading for Nick's car, hoping to soon find the answers they were looking for.

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Sara was only half way there when she noticed her gas gauge almost empty. She pulled into a lonely gas station, and as the tank was filling, she contemplated her motives for leaving her friends and going to the one place she dreaded; the place where so many bad memories had taken place. The place where she felt safest. Great, she thought, now I'm schizophrenic.

Her parents' old bed and breakfast was nothing close to being fancy, but not a run down shack like some of the others in the area were. Actually, it was pretty well kept, tangibility wise. The occupants were another story altogether.

Sara's thoughts were interrupted when the familiar click of the gas pump told her she could begin her journey again, and she almost didn't take the nozzle out of the car, for fear she would actually have to complete her drive.

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	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Keep them coming please! Well… here we go again! Enjoy!

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**Day 1**

**9:47 AM**

It wasn't long before the rest of the group found Grissom at a computer screen, eyes staring intently at its contents. His brows furrowed, and head nearly touching the monitor, Catherine noticed that something was definitely going on inside his head.

"Griss, you all right?" she asked coming over to stand next to him and waving the rest of them over. "What's going on?"

"What do you see?" he asked them. He moved out of the way so that everyone could look at the screen. When everyone assumed the same position he was in only moments before, Nick informed them of their discovery.

"Um, are we supposed to be seeing something?"

"Yes," Grissom answered. "And that's what we're not seeing."

"So she didn't take her GPS system with her?" Warrick asked, more of a statement than a question.

"It seems she didn't," Grissom told the group.

"So," Brass interrupted, heaving a large sigh, "we're back at square one."

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It was a few hours into the drive, and Sara knew she was lost. Great, she thought, I'm alone, lost, but I have my GPS! When she went to use it, she suddenly remembered the past day's events.

_Sara Sidle was walking back to her car from a casino robbery gone bad when she noticed the windows of her Denali smashed open. She looked inside to realize that her radio/cd player and her GPS unit were missing. She meant to file a report, but got caught up on a double homicide and completely forgot._

Great, just great, she thought. Now what?

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**10:21 AM**

**"**So we have no idea where she is, and no way of tracking her?" Greg asked to no one in particular.

"Yeah," Catherine told him. "And we better not be looking for a corpse," she added quietly, but loud enough for the group to hear.

This immediately sent a shiver down Grissom's spine. He hadn't even considered it, hadn't allowed himself to consider it, but now that he was thinking it, he couldn't get it out of his mind. Everything around him blurred away, and it was just him, and endless thoughts of life without Sara. And he almost passed out.

Not even Catherine's not so gentle shaking could pull him out of the dark void he had entered in his mind. It was a place he had hoped he would never go, a place that was so far in the dregs of his mind that he had to brush away the cobwebs and the dust. But as soon as he had settled in, there was no going back.

They were going to find Sara, alive, or else they would never again find Grissom.

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Sara found a small convenience store about ten miles after she concluded she was lost for good. Hoping against everything that the store carried a road map, she practically ran into the store. I guess rationality wasn't on top of my brain functions when I left this morning, she thought, and scolded herself for not bringing a map with her.

When she walked in, a kind, old lady at the counter greeted her. "Hello, dear. Lookin' for anything in particular today?"

As soon as Sara stepped through the door, she wondered if there was anything to be looking _at._ Many of the shelves were empty, and the magazines were numbering below ten.

"Um, yeah," Sara said as she took off her sunglasses to see in the dimly lit room. "You wouldn't happen to have any road maps, would you?"

"Why, yes, yes I do. Where're you plannin' on goin' today? Some one special at the end of your ride?" she asked as she pulled out, what Sara thought, was possibly the oldest road map she'd ever seen.

"Yeah, someone special," she answered absently. "Is this the only one you have?"

"Yes it is. Not many people come 'round this road, 's been here since the day I started up this here place. There's business enough, though, so I don't worry 'bout it too much."

"So, how much?" Sara asked as she began fishing out her wallet.

The old lady handed it to her, saying, "You look like you've got enough troubles on your mind for the day. Don't worry, I'll cover it." When Sara was about to argue, the woman merely raised her hand and handed her the map. Sara thanked her, feeling her spirits lighten up for the first time in a while. Something was going right.

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**11:02 AM**

Something was definitely not going right at the crime lab. Grissom was holed up in his office; door locked, lights off, and blinds shut. Catherine and Warrick were sitting on the couch in the break room waiting for Greg to finish brewing his special blend. Nick was talking to Brass at the table, discussing possible means and motive for someone to kidnap Sara.

They couldn't understand who would want to take her, she rarely ventured away from the lab, so it would be fruitless to try to find people who had a grudge on her. They were thinking that maybe someone from an old case, a suspect maybe, had taken her, but it was highly unlikely. Sara had a gun and a fist of fury, and even if someone had taken her, she would have left something behind; a clue she'd know they would find. But after a very thorough search by Nick and Warrick, they still couldn't find anything.

It was a while before anyone spoke, and none were shocked when Greg was the first to pipe up. "Has anyone checked on Grissom lately?" Catherine resisted the urge to snort at the absurd comment. She knew Grissom, and she knew that right now he was racking his brains to somehow find the answer to where Sara was; to find the answer to why he'd waited so long.

And as he sat there, alone in his dank office surrounded by jars of things unmentionable in polite conversation, he wondered if he was too late. If this was what Sara meant by the warning. Maybe she did just up and leave, he thought. Maybe she's given up on whatever she was holding onto. Me, he thought as he pounded his head on the desk. He knew how much he'd hurt her; how much he'd longed for her. But he would never, _could _never, give into those feelings.

She was to young, to smart, to beautiful to want a stodgy old science geek who spent his off days racing cockroaches. He didn't deserve her. But she showed interest, and he pushed her away every time. Every fucking time, he thought, and just once I could have said yes. But no, I just had to keep my distance, and couldn't be hurt… just like I hurt her, he thought, much to his disdain. He knew what he had done. He knew he'd been misleading and cruel, had been untrustworthy. But he knew that she was still waiting for him to come around. And he couldn't understand why someone like her could show _any _interest in someone like him.

But she had. And Grissom knew about all things that he had to find her, alive, one way or another. With that new found thought, he popped some of his migraine pills, turned on his lights, opened his shades, and headed out of his office for what he viewed as his second chance with a one Sara Sidle.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, but I have a lot to do tonight. I hope this holds you over until I can write again (probably tomorrow morning). Until then, remember, reviews are my best friends, and to all of you who reviewed, you made my day. Please keep them coming! Enjoy!

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**Day 1**

**12:11 PM**

It had only been about an hour since Grissom saw his chances with Sara slipping away, and decided to do something about it, when he found Catherine sitting at a computer screen aimlessly.

"You know," he said, startling her, "just because you keep staring at it doesn't mean anything will change."

"So, I guess that power nap you took helped make you a little more rational?" She had mandated he take a half hour power nap after he emerged from his office. Sleeping wouldn't even be close to describing his state as he lay on his couch staring at the ceiling, plotting ways to get Sara back.

"A little," he lied, and knew all too well she wouldn't buy it.

"Gil," she said, standing to be in front of him, "you're not going to be good to anyone, including Sara, dead on your feet. You need to sleep." Her voice was controlling, but utterly sympathetic for how he must feel.

"Yeah," he whispered, mind wandering to the times he hurt Sara, the times he shot her down, and he wished that he had just told her how he felt. He wished she knew. He wished she was there, right next to him, and that he wouldn't be driving himself insane trying to find out if she was even still breathing.

He needed a time-out in his life, a chance to breathe, but most of all, he needed Sara.

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It had taken Sara an hour to figure out how to use the grungy old map, but once she had, she was on her way again, much to her displeasure. She couldn't believe she was doing this. Leaving every one behind without telling them had been hard, and she kept thinking, in the back of her mind, that something was going wrong back at the lab. The nagging feeling that she couldn't get out of her head almost made her turn on her cell phone, just to give them an idea of where she was.

But every time she would pick it up, a part of her kept telling her that, for no better reason, Grissom should know how she felt every time he shot her down. And then the other part of her brain would tell her that she wasn't being irrational and that Grissom didn't deserve this, and… Oh God, she thought, I'm schizophrenic but at least I'm not lost anymore.

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	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for being late. I hope this makes up for it! Enjoy!

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**Day 1**

**12:45 PM**

It wasn't only the fact that they had not found her, the team was patient, even in this situation, it was the fact that they'd never had the chance to find her. There were no leads, no tracking devices, and they were trapped within the walls of the CSI lab trying desperately to find a person who seemed to just disappear off the face of the planet.

"Damn it!" Nick shouted as he hurled his empty foam coffee cup at the wall. This surprised everyone, and all eyes were on Nick.

"Hey, man, it's okay, we'll find her," Warrick tried to sooth his friend. It had only been a few hours, but they could see that this day wasn't going to change. And Grissom was literally watching the time slipping away.

12:46:19, 12:46:20, 12:26:21…

"Grissom?" He looked up at Greg, who was waving a hand in front of his face. "Where'd you go just then?"

"Oh, sorry guys. I'll be in my office if you need me," he said as he stood to walk out of the break room.

"Oh no you don't," Catherine told him sternly as she made her way to his side. "You are going to sit in here with the rest of us until we get this, mess, sorted out." He could tell she was genuinely concerned, but he really needed to get away from the bright lights or else his migraine would begin to threaten his very sanity.

"Okay, but could we turn off the lights?" he asked as he sat down, his head in his hands.

Catherine understood and walked to the light switch to turn it off. After she had done so, the room was a serene blue from the reflection of the hallways. The serenity of the room contradicted the people sitting in it. Everyone's mind was racing as thoughts of Sara came flooding back.

_It had been a cold winter night when Sara and Nick were processing_ _a crime scene outside of an abandoned warehouse. It was then that Nick looked up to see Sara staring into a garbage can, which had become garbage itself._

_"Hey, Sar, you got something there?" His question went unnoticed, so he walked over to see what was so interesting. "Sara, you with me here?" He looked into the can and realized there was a lone picture of a family, a mother, father, a girl and a boy, sitting on top of the trash. Nick glanced back at Sara to see her eyes glazed over, as if in remembrance. "Hey, you okay?"_

_This shook Sara out of her reverie and she glanced back at Nick, her mask on once again. "I'm fine, could be a picture of the victim's children. Let's bag it and see what we can get," she said as she slowly walked away to her truck to get a bag…_

Nick knew something had been wrong then, and he wished now that he asked what it was. Maybe it could have helped, he thought, but I just let her walk away like it was just another day.

Warrick's mind wandered to a time only weeks ago in the blazing Las Vegas sun.

_Sara had been doing an experiment on herself to see how many miles it took running to reach a certain body temperature. "You know," Warrick suggested, "we can get real marathoners to do this." This seemed to enthuse Sara more, so they set off down the road. _

_Sara was the almost the same height and weight of the victim, and wore exactly what the victim wore, a white lycra/spandex sports bra, black shorts, and white ankle socks with sneakers. Warrick was in the truck following next to her and keeping on coming traffic at bay. Every half mile she would take her temperature, and every half mile she would keep going. It was one hundred two degrees outside, and by the second mile he could she the heat getting to her._

_"Sara, you don't have to do this. We can get the same results from the computer." _

_She just forged ahead, saying, "You won't get the human element on the computer." He knew it was pointless to argue, and continued following her. _

_At mile three, her body temperature was a dangerous one hundred one degrees, but she needed to get to one hundred three. She knew she was playing with fire, but she had to do this for the victim. Someone had to speak for her. It had only been a few minutes into mile three when her body began to shut down. Warrick could see it and insisted that she stop, for her own health. When she finally fell to the ground, Warrick was right there next to her with a bottle of water._

She never asked for help, so I didn't help her, he thought. I should have just picked her up kicking and screaming and helped her whether she liked it or not. He berated himself for not helping her. She thinks she's so tough, he thought, but we all know she's just begging for someone reach out to her and ask her what's wrong. She just wants someone to be there for her, for her to have proof that they care; and I should have been that person.

Warrick continued to sit berating himself on the break room couch next to Catherine, who was also remembering a time between she and Sara, an argument that seemed like it happened only days ago, but really occurred over two years ago.

_Catherine and Sara were processing the home of a suspected wife abuser when he suddenly appeared in the house. "What the hell do you think you're doing in my house?" he screamed at them._

_"Sir, please go outside," Catherine kindly asked of him.   
"No, you're gonna have to make me! This is my God damn house! Get out!" _

_"We have a warrant to be here. Now please step outside." Catherine was starting to get fed of with the man._

_"So, who sent you here. Let me guess, my wife called the police telling you I beat her up?"_

_"No, but why would she say that?" Catherine didn't want to tip her hat too early._

_"I was drunk one night and accidentally slapped her, and she got pissed at me and never forgave me."_

_"One night! One **slap**?" Sara took off her gloves and headed towards the husband. "Try **years!** Try every night for years and years and years!" Tears were threatening to break, but she kept strong and continued or torrent of verbal abuse. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and it only fueled the fire. "Your wife is in the fucking morgue you bastard! You beat her to death with your bare hands! And you come here and tell us that all you did was **slap **her **once**? Yeah right."_

_Just then, an officer came in and took the husband outside. "Next time try to do your job, or there won't be a next time!" screamed Catherine as the officer and suspect walked outside._

_When they were outside, Catherine turned to Sara. "What the hell are you doing? We could have gotten a confession out of him!"_

_"What were you going to do, flip your hair and give him a wink?"_

_That was it. There was no going back from there._

_"No! I was going to interrogate him like I do every other suspect! I was going to be an investigator, not and executioner!"_

_"I wish I were an executioner, so I could take out **you**!"_

_"What does that mean?"_

_"You know exactly what it means!" Before Sara could even lift her fist, Brass walked in and forcefully took her out of the room and stuck her in the back of his car, as if for safe keeping. She needed to cool down._

_Meanwhile, Catherine continued standing in the living room of the house, panting slightly as the adrenaline wore off and the realization of the fight finally caught up with her._

Catherine knew she shouldn't have blown up at Sara about it. She realized that those types of things set Sara off. But now she couldn't do anything about it; couldn't ask her why. She needed to know why. She already had an idea, and shivered as she thought about it. She couldn't imagine a life like that, and wouldn't wish it on anyone.

If that was what Sara went through, Catherine knew that it would definitely leak into her work as an investigator. She was astonished that Sara could put such a mask on. Her ability to front amazed her, and Catherine only wished that Sara had let someone share her pain, and maybe she wouldn't be missing.

Greg's thoughts differed from the others'. He was remembering a time many years ago when he and Sara could joke all day long and never get tired.

_"So, Sara," Greg began in a provocative voice. "The Greg Man is free tomorrow night. Got the night off. Hows about you and me take a little ride on the S.S. Greggo?" he said wiggling his eyes._

_"Greg!" Sara yelled smiling, throwing her pen at him. _

_"Ouch! Hey, what was that for?"_

_"You know exactly what that was for!" she told him, still smiling and laughing. She didn't laugh much, but when she did, he wasn't going to stop her. He continued with the charade._

_"Oh, you think that was bad." He stood up from his seat in the lab and started towards her. _

_"Greg what are you doing?" she asked, still laughing. He was walking very slowly towards her, looking like he was about to pounce. Sara noticed this, and was about to jump out of her chair when he flung himself at her, his fingers making a beeline for her stomach and moving viciously around her abdomen._

_This immediately sent Sara into a fury of giggles and screams and she swore she wasn't breathing anymore. Her eyes were brimming with tears of laughter when Grissom walked into the lab. He wanted to be made at the two, but Sara smile and laughter shot right to his heart and he realized there was nothing he loved more than when Sara was happy._

_He smiled, and she smiled back. The two were caught in a locked gaze when Greg started his torment again._

Greg thought back to the time and realized that it had been so long since he'd seen her smile. It seemed a century ago that she laughed. He wondered what had made her so angry and upset lately. He wished he had talked to her, but now it felt like it was too late.

Brass was sitting at the break room table, cup in hand, remembering a time when he thought Sara was a goner.

_Sara had come into the lab, a bag of cough drops in hand. She was so focused on a file she didn't even notice Brass right in front of her and practically ran into him. "Oh, Brass, sorry for almost running into you. Hi! How's it going?"_

_"Fine. You? You look like you're coming down with something. Maybe you should ask Grissom for the night off." Sara coughed for good measure, scolding herself for not concealing the alcohol masking devices._

_"No, you know, I'm fine. I might just hang out in the lab though." Yeah right, she thought. _

_"You know Sara, sometimes with colds, you have to stay home and let it go away. Let it just blow over. But sometimes," he whispered in her ear as he began to walk away, "You have to confront whatever gave you the 'cold'." She looked at him like he was crazy, and when she was about to argue, he quickly interrupted saying, "feel better," and walked away._

I should have just asked her what was wrong instead of making her feel like an idiot, he thought. God, I can be such an asshole sometimes. What kind of friend am I that I just walk away from her when I know something's wrong.

Grissom's mind was racing through every time he'd been mean to Sara, every time he yelled at her or scolded her. It all came crashing down on him the night she had told him about his family.

_Sara had sat down on the chair next to the couch where he sat in her house. She had told him about the fighting that went on in her day after day, trips to the hospital. He had almost cried when she said that that was the way she thought all families lived. Then she had asked if he believed there was a murder gene, and he had given some smart-ass reply about it, saying that they weren't. _

_But then she had told him the thing that broke his heart into tiny shards that ripped open his chest. She told him that her mother had killed her father, and she broke down crying, right in front of him. _

There was also an incident a mental hospital that almost killed Grissom right then and there, when he thought he would lose her forever.

_A suspect, Adam Trent, had trapped Sara in the nurse's station, a sharp shard of plaster in his hand. He held the shard against Sara's neck as Grissom stood outside, watching the whole thing unfold through a glass window. The terror in Sara's eyes would haunt him for years to come, he knew, and he never wanted to see it again._

_He asked Adam to please open the door, but he didn't respond. When a hospital worker finally got the door open, the noise startled him, and Sara was able to struggle out of his arms as he slit his own throat._

Grissom knew he would never be able to shake those images out of his head. He knew that he should have done something about his feelings immediately after that; should have pulled her into a loving embrace and told her how he felt and try to comfort her.

Now he knew that it was too late. She was gone. She was never coming back.

And that was when Grissom had an idea. He remembered back to Sara talking to him afterwards, about her mother being in a mental hospital. He knew there was something unresolved in that aspect of her life.

Suddenly, his eyes went wide. His mind was putting the puzzle together. He ran out of the break room, all eyes turning towards him. The team looked to each other, to the door, back to each other and they all rushed out the door to find Grissom.

He went to the computer he saw Sara in earlier in the morning, logged onto the Internet, and hit the "history" button. He saw what he was looking for- directions from Sara's apartment to the Santa Monica Mental Correctional Facility.

"Why the hell would she need that?" Catherine asked behind him, startling him.

"I'm leaving. Don't follow me. You know where I'm going. I'll call you when I get there." With that, Grissom took off down the hall to his Denali, not bothering to go home and pack anything. Everything he needed was in Santa Monica, California.'

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**3:24 PM**

Sara stepped out of her truck and noticed a piece of paper fall off her seat. It was the directions she had printed out that morning. I completely forgot I had that, she thought. Would have saved me from stopping to get that map. She remembered the old woman's words, and continued to repeat them over and over again in her head.

_"Some one special at the end of your ride?"_

She knew there was someone special at the beginning of her ride, but she had to stop thinking about him. If she continued to think about Grissom, she would never have the guts to go through with seeing her mother. She would just turn around and drive back to Vegas. She would come crawling back again.

So she shunned thoughts of Grissom from her mind and made her way up the steps to the place that housed all of her demons.

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**4:12 PM**

Little did Sara know that Grissom wasn't in Vegas anymore, but only two and a half hours away from Santa Monica. He was on his way to save her from her mother, but he knew he'd also have to save her from herself.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: A wee bit short, but it's late and I have to get up early for work. Thanks to all who reviewed. Keep them coming please! Enjoy!

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**Day 1**

**5:21 PM**

Sara had been waiting for nearly two hours. Visiting hours weren't until 5:30, and it took all of her strength not to run screaming from the building.

'Ms. Sidle?" Sara looked up to see one of the nurses staring at her.

"Yes?" She looked at her watch, which read 5:31.

"Your mother is ready to se you now." Sara didn't say anything, merely walking with the nurse towards the visiting room.

There, she found her mother shackled to a chair wearing a white pull over shirt and white sweat pants. Her socks were also white, with textured rubber bottoms to replace actual shoes.

"Be good, Laura," the nurse told her as she walked out. She walked back in a moment later to tell Sara that there was an armed guard outside the door should she need him. Sara thanked the kind woman and sat in a chair across from her mother.

Neither said anything for quite some time. There was no clock in the room, and security had taken Sara's watch, but she estimated that they had been in the room for almost fifteen minutes. Sara was about to get up and leave when her mother spoke up.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it, Sammy?" Sara was taken aback. She hadn't been called that for over twenty years, but she played along.

"Yes, it has, Lily. How have you been?"

"Excellent. In fact, I'm looking forward to getting out of this prison pretty soon."

"Oh, you didn't hear?"

"What didn't I hear, Samantha, dear?"

"You're in here for life." Sara's voice was icy, and she swore her lips were freezing as the words left her mouth.

"Samantha!" Her mother was taken aback. "I thought I raised you better than that. You speak to adults politely! Now apologize."

"Oh, now, see, you've got it backwards." Sara leaned across the table so that she was only a few inches away from her mother. "You never raised me. You're no adult; you're a child, a nagging, spoiled child who only thinks of herself. And I don't think I should be the one apologizing."

"Spoiled! I am not the self-centered bitch you make me out to be, Sammy, dear. I'm sorry if that's what you think of me."

"That's a start. But you're apologizing for the wrong thing." Sara sat back down in her chair. "And sorry, mother dearest," she said sarcastically, "but you are the self-centered bitch I make you out to be."

"Excuse me! I saved us! I saved you!"

"You _saved _us? You did nothing of the sort."

"He was going to kill us all!"

"He was going to kill _you_!'

"Exactly!"

"So you took the knife and stabbed him!" Sara was on the verge of a breakdown. "You picked the knife up from the kitchen counter and stabbed him and stabbed him and stabbed him." She emphasized her point by banging her fist on the table over and over again. "You never gave him a chance!"

"He never gave us a chance!"

"Maybe we didn't deserve a chance! Maybe that's how things were supposed to be!"

"No, Sara, baby." She had used her real name, Sara realized, and her mom tried to reach out to her, but the restraints held her back.

"Just like it's always been. No matter how hard you tried, mom, you get never reach me. You spent your days hiding with the rest of us, pretending with the rest of us." Sara's voice was calmer now, understanding. "But, it doesn't reverse the past. It doesn't heal my wounds, mom. There are times when I wish I could just erase everything that happened to me. And I know I can't." Sara got close to her mom for one last comment. "And that's what keeps me going day after day. The fact that there is always something out there that I have to control, or it will control me. And what thoughts kill me day after day? Thoughts of you."

With that, Sara got up, told the guard she was finished, and left her mother for the last time.

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**7:02 PM**

It had been four and half hours since Grissom started his journey to Sara, and it seemed like it just began when he pulled up in the parking lot of the Santa Monica Mental Correctional Facility.

When he stepped out of his Denali, he noticed another Las Vegas truck sitting in the parking lot. He couldn't believe it. He had found her. He had finally found her.

He had never run so fast in his life than when he ran to that truck.

He looked in and saw Sara, sitting in the front seat, crying like he'd never seen her cry before. "Sara!" he screamed. She looked up, and before she could react, he had her door open and in his arms in one fluid motion. "Oh my God, Sara," he whispered, turning his head to smell her hair, to make sure she was really there.

She was still sitting there, in shock. At most, Grissom had held her hand when she told him about her family. Now he was hugging her? This was too much for her to deal with at the moment, and she pulled back, but what she saw was something she thought she'd never see.

Gil Grissom stood in front of her, tears streaming down his face, an unreadable emotion drawn on his face. "Sara," he said again, softer this time.

"Gil."

"There's so much I want to say to you." He took her hand and brought her out of the car. She accepted and the stood a respectable foot apart. "I'm so sorry, Sara."

"No, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I left without telling you and I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry."

"No, no. Shh." He came over and brushed her hair lightly with the back of his hair. "You didn't do anything wrong."

They stood there for a minute, his hand still in her hair. "How did you know where I was?"

He shrugged. "Played a hunch. Look," he said, reaching this time for her face. "I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you years ago. We thought, I thought, that you had been taken that you were…" He couldn't say, not even now, not even when he knew she was alive. "I thought I lost you forever, Sara. I should have taken you up on that dinner invitation, it was just…"

Sara knew this was hard for him. Opening up was definitely not one of his strong suits. "Look. It's okay. Apology accepted." She forced a smile, but it didn't have its desired affects.

"No, it's not okay. I've hurt you for too long, Sara, and I don't know why you chose to stay. But you have no idea how glad I am that you did." He put his other hand on the other side of her cheek. Checking her eyes for approval, he closed the few inches difference between her lips and his.

It started out light, but when she kissed him back, it quickly turned into a fury of heated, passionate kisses. When lack of oxygen forced them to stop, he rested his forehead against hers, both breathless.

"What I was saying before was that I really am sorry I hurt you, and I don't plan on doing it any time again in the future. With that said," he looked into her eyes. "I just wanted to tell you that I didn't want to go through the rest of my life without telling you that I love you, Sara Sidle."

Sara only kissed him again in response, and when they pulled away, she whispered, "Thank you. And I love you, too."

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A/N: Not the end! TBC!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I'm really sorry I haven't updated sooner. I think I'm finally finished with this chapter.

Disclaimer: The story at the end is recognizable, as I didn't create it, and therefore should not be given the credit for the idea. However, I did create their thoughts. (You'll figure it out, just read it!)

Again, really sorry. I'll have the next chapter up before the middle of next week. Enjoy!

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**Day 1**

**7:13 PM**

"Sara." Grissom tried to pull out of the embrace, but she just held on tighter. "Sara," he asked more persistently. "We have to let the others know that you're alright."

She finally let go.

"Okay, but make it quick, please. And I don't want to talk. Today at least." He understood, and quickly pulled out his cell phone.

"Gil Grissom!" he heard on the other end. "Where the hell are you?" Typical Catherine, he thought.

"I pulled up the website, I figured you knew how to read a map," he joked.

"This is no laughing matter! We have no idea where Sara is!"

"Uh, yes we do." _Please talk,_ he mouthed to her. She resigned and took the phone from him.

"Hello," she answered. All she heard was a satisfied sigh on the other end. "Catherine?"

"Oh, thank God. Sara, you're all right?"

"For the most part. I'm sorry I put you guys through that. It was a hasty and wrong decision to make and…" she stopped when she saw Grissom shaking his head at her. "Well, _I_ think it was. Gil here seems to think that it's all his fault, which it's not," she directed at him.

Gil? When had she started calling him Gil, Catherine thought to herself. The curiosity getting the best of her, as it usually did, she forged ahead with her thought. "So, when are you and _Gil _coming back?" Since she knew her friend was all right, she figured a little prodding was in order.

Shit, Sara thought. That slip up would cost her dearly. "Here, why don't you talk to him," she told Catherine as she swiftly handed to the phone over to Grissom.

"What's going on with you two?" Sara beeped the car horn three times.

Grissom understood what she was getting at, and told Catherine, "Look, I'm really stuck in traffic and I can't talk right now. I'll call you back later. Oh, and please tell the team that Sara is alright." With that, he hung up and went over to Sara, who stood grinning next to the car.

"That was close," she told him.

"Too close," he answered back.

"Their going to fine out eventually," she said as she inched closer to him.

"Yes, they are," he told her, inching still forward.

"It's okay," she said, with he fully understanding what she was trying to tell him.

"Yes, it is." With that knew found knowledge, Sara took the plunge and kissed him heatedly, their kiss growing more passionate by the second until Grissom began to pull away.

Still panting, he told her, "Not yet." His 'yet' threw her into an emotional realm of need and she couldn't wait until they were alone.

"Okay," she told him, very close to catching her breath after having it knocked out of her for the second time in a very short span of time. What he could do to her with so little effort amazed her, scared her even; but she was looking forward to the adventure.

"Sara, I uh, I wanted to know if you were done with whatever you were doing here."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you came here for a reason, and I wanted to know if this," he pointed to the mental facility, "was all you wanted to do here."

"Oh, okay. Um, if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to the B & B, just to see it."

"Why would I mind?" He was saddened that she still didn't truly accept him. "Sara, when I told you I love you, I meant it. I would never mind if you did anything, except leave me." His eyes were pleading; asking her if this was what she really wanted.

"I'm sorry. It's just this is all so new that I don't really know what to do or how to do it and… Never mind. Forget I said anything."

"Okay." He took her hand, relieved that she wasn't leaving him. "Let's go." With that, the two got in the car, each wondering where they stood with each other at that point.

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**Day 1**

**8:11 PM **

Sarastood on those steps for what seemed like hours. Her legs were cramping, and she could barely feel them anymore. Never the less, she continued to stand there not moving for anyone or anything.

She couldn't believe she was there, in front of her childhood… well, she couldn't call it a home. It had been merely a place where she existed for the first decade of her life.

Sara knew she had to do it. She had to confront her past, again, or else it would keep haunting her for the rest of her life. So she took a deep breath and took the few steps needed to get inside the door.

As she stepped inside, familiar sights and smells assaulted her senses and almost sent her to tears. As she stood in the foyer, eyes scanning every piece of memorabilia, memories came flooding back.

_"Mommy, mommy? Mommy, where are you?" a five year old Sara Sidle cried through the house. "Mommy?" She found her mother lying against the front door, head in hands, crying silently. "Mommy?" Sara came closer, and a twenty-two year old Laura Sidle picked up her head._

_"Go back to your room, Sara," her mother said emotionless. It was then that Sara saw the black and blue bruises on her mother's face begin to form. That had been the first time she had seen her mother beaten up, and it wouldn't be her last._

Sara was knocked out her reverie when she felt a hand on her shoulder. As soon as she had stepped in, she had completely forgotten that Grissom was there. "Hey, you," he said with a slight grin that she found highly contagious, and very cute.

"Hey," she answered and smiled back. "Sorry, I was just… remembering," she solemnly told her.

"I figured as much." He wrapped his strong body around her and she embraced him as if her life depended on it. "Do you want to keep going?" She merely nodded and trudged off to other parts of the house.

After visiting the living room of torture and the kitchen of death, they made their way up to her old bedroom. She sighed contently, seeing as nothing in there had changed. As soon as prospective buyers learned what had happened in there, they quickly steered clear, and as of yet, it remained vacant.

She pulled Grissom over to her bed and showed him what laid beneath. He saw everything from dirty socks to old childhood novels, such as "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" and "To Kill a Mockingbird". He looked up and smiled at her, again. Even through such a horrible time, he couldn't stop smiling at her.

"'To Kill a Mockingbird'?" he asked jokingly.

"Hey, I was only seven when I got that book. And it's a great book I'll have you know!" Good, he thought, I'm lightening her mood.

"I know. I've read it." He picked up the multiply read, tattered, old book, and told her, "we'll have to put this in our library." She looked up at him.

"_Our _library? Don't you mean _your _library?"

"No," he told her, taking her hand. "I mean _our _library." Sara's eyes began to water as her hand flew to her mouth. "Move in with me?" he asked pleading albeit knowing the answer.

All she could do was nod. He pulled her into a hug, and she nuzzled her head under his chin. Grissom noted that it fit perfectly.

"O, my God, Grissom?" she asked, pulling away slightly to look him in the eyes. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," he told her. He hadn't meant to say 'our', but now that he had, he cursed himself for all the years he held back his emotions. "I love you, Sara."

This madder her snuggle into him more, and he happily accepted her affection. He had missed so much, and he knew he would never get it back, but he was going to make the most of what he had now. "Do you want to go get something to eat?"

"Sure. I know a little diner a few miles from here." The two headed out of the haunted place. Grissom had a book in one hand, and for once in his life, Sara in the other.

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**Day 1**

**8:32 PM**

"So Sara's alright?" Nick asked Catherine questioningly, still not believing his friend. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

"No, for goodness sake's, Nick. This is the fourth…"

"Sixth," Greg interrupted, sick of hearing the same information over and over again.

"…Sixth time I've told you this," Catherine finished. "She's _fine._ Trust me. The way she was talking about her and Grissom I'd say there were off getting married somewhere or something." This brought looks of shock from the entire team.

"You are kidding, right?" Warrick was trying to understand.

"Yes, I'm kidding. But I wouldn't be surprised if it were true."

The team just shrugged it off, hoping to badger their friends into telling them what was going on as soon as they got back to Vegas.

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**Day 1**

**9:01 PM**

Dinner went very well… as well as any first dinner could go with two socially inept people. It was quite, but comfortable, and they both enjoyed it. When Sara, was about to leave, she realized something. "Oh, geez, I um. I don't have anywhere to go."

"I booked a hotel room," Grissom told her. "I, uh, I didn't, wasn't thinking that I'd, uh, find you here, so I, uh…" What is he stuttering about, Sara thought. She looked at him with a questioning look on her face. This made him even more nervous, but he knew he had to keep going. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued. "I wasn't thinking when I left Vegas, and so our hotel room only has one bed, but I figured, since we'd be sharing a house, that it would be okay, like a transition, but then I wasn't sure if I was jumping the gun and…" Sara stopped him by putting a finger over his lips.

"Shh. It's okay. We'll figure it out."

"So, um, I hope it's okay." Grissom was quite nervous, even though he had no reason to be. He had asked her to move in with him, but it wasn't until recently that he recalled what it entailed.

"Grissom." He still looked away from her, probably more embarrassed at his inefficiencies than he was nervous. "Gil." He looked up. "I told you, it's all right. Really." She put a comforting hand on his cheek, and this time, she didn't need an excuse to touch him.

_It had been a rough case. A man had hidden a body in a house, everyone knew it, and, even after busting down every possible wall, they couldn't find the victim. Grissom couldn't take it anymore, and he retreated out the back door of the building to a walkway, checking his pulse and feeling it rise._

_Sara had seen him go out the back door, very flustered, and just looked on for a few moments deciding what to do. It wasn't often she saw Grissom out of control, and she hated to admit it, but it scared her. Sara eventually decided that she should see if she could help him out._

_It pained her to see the man she loved aching for justice and righteousness, so she tried to convince him to walk it off with her, if not for his own comfort, she thought, but also her own. He told her that he didn't want to take a walk, but she could tell he was still very stressed out. Sara knew she needed to calm him down, and did the only thing she could think of._

_She reached her hand out and cupped his cheek. He looked up in surprise, and they stared at each other for only a few seconds, but it seemed as if the world had stopped. The electricity sparking between them was almost palpable, and Sara marveled at the softness of his skin. How she longed to feel more, but knowing this was neither the time nor the place, she promptly pulled her hand away._

_Meanwhile, Grissom could have sworn his heart had stopped, or was beating so fast he couldn't even feel it beat anymore. He was just as surprised when she took her hand away as when she placed it on his cheek. The cool night air reached his heated skin at the absence of Sara's hand, and he almost shivered._

_She had to think quickly of a reason she would do such a thing. Saying she couldn't stand seeing him in pain because she loved him would have been insane, so she just told him, "Chalk, from plaster," in reference to the walls they had been tearing down, and walked back into the building._

_Grissom tried his best, but although his efforts were great, he could find no chalk on his cheek. He disregarded it, and, noticing his pulse had gone back to normal, followed Sara back inside._

Grissom put his hand atop Sara's, and leaned into her touch. They could both get used to this.


End file.
